not her, never her
by NobodyLovesAMisfit
Summary: She can't ever remember feeling so cold, not even when she had made her way all the way from her pretty white house to bring her mother's favorite thing (not her, never her) to her own favorite thing. It didn't matter that he would never look at her the way he looked at the beautiful girl who gleamed like the sun, because knowing that she helped him was enough for her.


It comes back to her in flashes, not one memory being fully intact. Perhaps it was because of the horror of the entire experience or the amount of drugs they inject into the crook of her elbow to try to make her talk. When the poison (for that's what it is, surely) begins to invade her veins and make the lines between past&present and real¬ real blur until they bleed into each other, the girl loses the ability to think. To function. Her back is straight and her wrists are fastened to the cold, metal chair while she is forced to watch videos of things she should remember but is starting to forget. Except they're warped, aren't they? Katniss wasn't the bad guy, was she? The frail blonde can no longer remember, and when the men in all white lead her back to her cell, those questions are what fill up the hours until they come for her again.

Which they always do, whether the time between their visits be hours or days. She can't ever remember feeling so cold, not even when she had made her way all the way from her pretty white house to bring her mother's favorite thing (not her, never her) to her own favorite thing. It didn't matter that he would never look at her the way he looked at the beautiful girl who gleamed like the sun, because knowing that she helped him was enough for her. Madge was always like that; content to play hero from afar, since her attempts to reach out would be shot down had anyone been aware of what she was doing. No one wanted help from the spoiled Mayor's daughter, after all. The Seam kids looked upon her with unconcealed disgust, which she preferred to the sickening fake smiles the majority of the town kids would give her. Whether it be at school, or while walking through town, or even in her own home, Madge was always destined to be an outsider. Once Upon a Time it had bothered her, but she learned long ago that Once Upon a Time was about as futile as Happily Ever After.

There wasn't a window in the little room that they kept her in, so time no longer meant anything to the girl. Most of her time was spent listening to the screams of the other unfortunate occupants and sifting through memories that she no longer could believe were her own. Her moods would swing from a bleak gray to a deep blue, and while feeling nothing wasn't exactly unfamiliar, she preferred the depressing blue that would at least hold her hand when she was frightened (and she often was). The frail blonde didn't have much left, so at the least she should be able to have her emotions. Couldn't show them, of course, lest she risk punishment, but they were there all the same. On good days she could get out of her own mind long enough to daringly whisper to the woman across from her. The walls weren't very thick, although they were impossibly strong, so it was easy enough to hear her replies. Most of the time they were only soft sobs, but she managed to coerce a few things from the brunette she recognized as Annie Cresta over however long it was that she had been rotting away in that cell for.

Strange that the first friend she'd made apart from Katniss and Peeta was a mad girl. Well, that was what the rest of Panem had labeled her, at least. After being in the cold prison for so long and watching the girl's games, she could easily see why she reacted the way she did. It almost made her laugh sardonically that a game in which they sent 24 children to fight to their deaths was more acceptable than a girl who cradled her head in her hands to block out the memories. Madge had never been in the games, but no one could deny that the Mayor's daughter had seen her fair share of suffering. Loneliness was more known to her than her own mother, who spent her days in bed with headaches (more likely heartaches after those pretty pink birds came), and although the memories were muddled up, she knew she nor her father had made it from the house that night. No amount of drugs could ever wash that from her memories, even if that was what she wanted (which sometimes, she did).

A bad day comes and with it a boy she almost recognizes, but can't be sure. His eyes are the same shade of blue and although his hair is dirty, it almost looks like her own in color. It's his voice that confirms it, though, and it doesn't matter that there's poison running through her veins because when she hears his voice (although it is raised in a way she has never heard it before and she knows that they have got to him too) memories of flour fights and running from his always angry mother come to her, unchanged. They've taken many things from her since the night the bombs dropped, but she has those memories and for the first time in a while a smile is on her face. "Peeta!" she yells, forgetting (or perhaps, not caring) of the punishment she'll surely receive for doing so. Blue meets blue and his eyebrows furrow for a moment as her name escapes from his chapped lips, soundless. That's when the men in white coats drag him away and she feels the bite of two needles this time, and then she's sinkingsinkingsinking as her mind turns to ash (just like they did).

One would think that having a friendly face in close proximity to her would help, but it only makes the blue creep up until she feels as if she can hardly breathe. Sometimes she joins the pretty mad girl in her crying, but most of the time she simply bites her lips and clutches her fingers together. Peeta was always such a lovely boy, so kind and caring and courageous. It isn't fair that they have him in a place such as this, and imagining Katniss' reaction is heartbreaking. They're in love, she knows, even if Katniss sometimes forgets that. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she forbids herself from wishing for a love such as that. Would anyone miss her if one day the needle bit too deep? (She doesn't think so. At least, he wouldn't.)

She never sees the blue eyed boy again, not until they take the girl across from her away and drag him away as well. The they in question are not anyone that she recognizes, and when they lean down to whisper in Annie's ear something that causes her to sag against them, Madge briefly wonders if something is going on. It had been a bad day, however, and her mind is as foggy as ever as they take them both away (but not her, never her). For a moment, she thinks she sees the hunter boy, but reminds herself she's heavily medicated and that is not the case. And in that brief moment she understands why her mother did it, because if the drugs can make her see him again then maybe that's what she saw in them. Not a cure, but an escape. To her. The girl who died too soon with the same pin she gave to her friend, the one that she was always forced to hide in the shadow of. For the first time, she doesn't blame her mother for her actions.

The needle bites too hard when the powers at be decide that she is no longer useful. All the other captives were taken away, something she was extremely happy for, so what was the point in keeping her around? They'd given her too much and her mind was nearly as far gone as her mother's had been. A mercy killing, one might call it. The blue was already there, keeping away any air that she tried to bring into her lungs and choking her whenever she remembered that she was the only one they had left behind. Little Margaret Undersee, the Mayor's daughter. Important enough to kidnap, but apparently not important enough to save. She knew her place, and it was with a resigned smile that she accepted her fate. Funny that as her eyes drooped closed and her inhales and exhales grew fewer and far between, her memories came back. He was on her mind until the very last minute, as was the boy with the bright blue eyes and the girl with tough skin, but a genuine heart. The girl on fire, and the girl who was left in ashes. (And as the poison stopped her heart, it burnedburnedburned and so did she.)


End file.
